Hold Back the River
by Cemarkah
Summary: Maya has danced around Lucas for years, shielding herself with nicknames and jokes. But then someone close to her leaves, and nothing is a joke. Especially not Lucas.
1. Michelangelo's David

The phone was ringing.

 _I bet if there was a study done, they would find a relationship between high levels of anxiety and amount of time talking on the phone._

Well, it wasn't technically ringing. Phones didn't really ring anymore, did they? They chirped or chimed or played whatever Taylor Swift song was currently popular. Maya's phone was on vibrate. Because Maya was in the middle of class. The noise wasn't loud, but she could tell that the professor had noticed. Stealthily, Maya's hand moved toward her bag. All of her classmates were graciously pretending that they didn't notice any sound. And they shouldn't really have heard any. Normal phones on vibrate didn't sound like chainsaws.

Maya turned the sound off and checked the screen.

 _Lucas._

It seemed as though she had failed. Finally, she had gotten him to text her, most of the time. Their junior year of high school, he had basically turned into an old man, mostly due to Mr. Matthew's influence. Always insisted on calling people. Said that people didn't talk like they used to because of phones and Facebook and Twitter. Maya had gotten fed up with it and struck up a deal. He could call her, but only if he wanted to have a real conversation. No calling to say that he was on his way or ask if she was having a good day.

So either this was about something urgent, or he had broken the rule. Because they always had their most real conversations at night.

Maya's heart started beating faster.

Maybe it was Katy.

She picked up her bag and walked out of class. She didn't even care. She called Lucas back right away. "Is something wrong?" Maya asked as soon as he picked up.

"No."

Maya leaned against the wall outside the classroom, her bag dangling to the floor. "You idiot. I was in class."

He didn't have to ask why she might think something might have been wrong. He knew. But they would go on. Normalcy was her stage, and one that she desperately needed.

"The class with the pervey professor? The one obsessed with naked people art?

Maya laughed. "It was just getting good. We're studying the David statue."

"So hot."

"Go back to Brokeback Mountain, cowboy."

"Give it a rest, bedbug."

It felt good. The rhythm of the conversation. Always steady, always light.

"So why'd you call?"

Silence.

"I have to talk to you about something."

"Now?"

"In person."

"And you couldn't text me to tell me this?"

Silence.

Too many silences. Maya wished she could see his face right now, so that she could decipher the sort of silence this was.

"Lucas, what's going on?"

He sighed. "Don't worry. I just wanted to call you this time. Are you free tonight? Can I come over?"

 _Don't worry_ is the worst thing to say to someone to get them to stop worrying. "Sure," Maya said.

But he could hear the anxiousness in her voice. "Relax. Go enjoy your art porn," he said.

Nope. She was not relaxed. She wouldn't be relaxed right now if she was getting a massage on a beach while a puppy played with a bunny nearby.

"OK. I'll see you tonight."

"Yes, ma'am."


	2. New Card

_The art history paper is due on Friday in two weeks._

 _I have to finish the reading for International Law by tomorrow._

 _Lucas is coming over to talk to me about something important._

The subway car rattled. Maya swerved to avoid sitting in the lap of the rather large woman in front of her. She re-secured her grip on the rail. _It's nothing. He said it was nothing. Boy scouts aren't allowed to lie._

Her stomach rumbled. She hoped Katy had made dinner. That was funny. She had started calling her mother Katy in her thoughts now. It's difficult to think of someone that you take care of as your mother.

She closed her eyes and continued going over her assignments in her head. She always did this on her ride home from NYU. She didn't like to write things down

 _You have to participate in that discussion board for Communication Theory by next Sunday._

 _The presentation outline for Literary Criticism has to be emailed in by midnight tonight._

 _He's not going to change everything, is he?_

Pesky analyzing. Maya opened her eyes, and dared to let go of the rail long enough to twist her hair into a ponytail. He had never said anything to her. But how much did words really mean, anyway?

There was the way he looked down at her like he was looking up at the sun.

Words are nothing compared to that.

She stepped out of the car into the station, and the cold air hit her like a boxing glove. She hunched over, pulling her olive-green coat tighter around her chest. The walk from the station to her apartment was short.

 _You and Lucas are going to talk tonight. It's going to be about feelings. You're going to have to tell him that you don't feel the same way. He's still going to look down at you like he's looking up at the sun and it's going to hurt insanely bad. And you're going to wonder whether or not you're lying to him and you're going to realize that you are lying to him, and that you do feel the same way, but you're also going to know that you're not going to be with him._

 _Because you love to be around him, but whenever you think about_ ** _being with_** _him you stop thinking about him and start thinking about your mother. And the wreck that she is because she's not_ ** _with_** _someone. You don't want that to be you._

 _You're a complete person._

 _You don't need Katy, or Riley, or Lucas. You have a full scholarship to NYU because you're a brilliant human being and you've dealt with every card life has dealt you like a poker champion._

The apartment was dark, and it was a mess. Katy had left the TV on, and empty white cartons with red pagodas littered the couch. Maya turned on the lights, shut off the TV, and went to drop her bag in her room. She saw lights flickering underneath the door to Katy's room, and heard the Friends theme song. Katy really had to learn to turn off the TV.

Maya opened the door.


	3. Gravity

Lucas kept his head down as he walked.

 _There's no reason to be nervous. It's just Maya._

As if the phrase "just Maya" could make it all better. As if all the time they had spent together made her any less extraordinary, and him any less crazy about her. He laughed a little, remembering a time when she drove him crazy in a bad way.

That ended quickly.

He had watched them as they both changed. Middle school. High school. Riley leaving for the Navy. Farkle going to MIT. Maya got a scholarship to NYU, and he decided to go there too. There was no pretending it was a coincidence.

She was his gravity. She pulled him in, no matter how much space she put between them. He could not help but close the gap. Sitting together on his couch, video chatting with Riley, or with Farkle. Days at the zoo just watching the animals do stupid things like pee. Nights on the phone talking about what it meant to be alive. Walking her home from his house; walking so close that their shoulders would bump every few steps. Like gravity.

After all that talking, he could get out a few more words.

 _You are the ground. You are the calm that I will fight for._

 _I love you._

He turned red just thinking about it and looked around self-consciously before remembering that it was dark and no one could see him. He was halfway there.

His muscles ached, not from the strenuousness of his walk, but because he had spent most of the day at the dojang, half of it training, and the other half teaching kids the basics of taekwondo. In middle school, training had helped him to control his anger and to direct his aggression in a positive way, and he wanted to help other kids to learn to do the same. Sometimes it was difficult to make time for his classwork and for the dojang, but he always managed it. It was never difficult to make time for Maya. He never had to make time for her, he always just found it in the most natural places.

Except for perhaps today. He hadn't meant to call her in the middle of her class. He'd forgotten, which kind of frustrated him. He knew her schedule almost as well as his own.

He stopped short, his eyes blinded by flashing red and blue lights. There were police cars and paramedics outside of the Hart's apartment.

He was running.

He was there.

"What's going on?" he asked the first officer he saw.

"We got a call that one of the residents had died," the officer stated matter-of-factly. He dealt with situations like this every day.

 _Oh, God._

 _Oh, God. No._

Lucas's arms were shaking. He dragged a breath in. "Name?" was all he could manage.

"I don't know, son."

An officer was opening the door. Lucas knew they would stop him, so he bolted before he had a chance to think. He was the first one inside. They were yelling at him, he didn't even hear it.

Maya was sitting on the couch among half-eaten boxes of Chinese food. She had a TV remote in her hand. He could see her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. She was so pale that Lucas felt that he could see right through her. She stood up.

He just stared at her, the officers and paramedics filing in behind him.


	4. I'm Not Going to Leave You

"I'm sorry, but you can't be in here right now," an officer said to Lucas. "We have to rule the death a homicide until a cause is confirmed."

Lucas didn't even look at him. "Come on, Maya."

She didn't move.

He went over to her, gently tugged the remote out of her hands and set it down. He grabbed her hands, and guided her into his side. He brought her outside and walked her along the side of the house. "They're going to ask you questions soon," he said to her.

She nodded.

He hugged her, letting out a long, shaking breath. She was a stone in his arms. He wanted to cry, but he wasn't going to cry until she did. He put his hand on the back of her head and stroked her hair. "Is there anything you need?" he asked.

She shook her head, the movement stifled by his sweatshirt.

He knew better than to ask if there was anyone he should call.

He wanted to say something, but everything he thought of sounded like the worst possible thing he could say.

Are you OK? Of course she's not OK.

What happened? Of course she doesn't want to talk about it. She's going to have to talk to the police about it in a few minutes.

He just stood there for ten minutes, holding her and hating himself.

 _I'm sorry._

 _I love you._

 _I'm sorry I'm not better at this._

An officer approached. "Ma'am?" he said hesitantly. "We need to talk to you now."

Maya backed a step away from Lucas, looking up at him. He couldn't tell what her eyes were saying, but if there was the smallest chance that it was "don't leave me"…

"I'm staying with her," Lucas informed the officer.

"That's fine."

There were so many questions. So many stupid questions at the worst time possible. Maya found her mother in her bedroom, lying on the bed, with bottles everywhere. She hadn't touched her, but she had looked close enough to know that she wasn't breathing. She had found her at 6:27 P.M. and she had last seen her alive at 1:16 P.M.

The officer finished writing. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said to Maya. "They're going to be bringing out the body in a half-hour. Once we leave, you'll be able to go back inside, but I would suggest that you and your friend go somewhere else until then."

"We will," Lucas said, as the officer walked away.

"I want to stay," Maya whispered.

"Why?"

"I don't know," she said.

"I'm not letting you," Lucas said firmly.

"Okay." She started walking.

Lucas walked close behind her. Her steps were faltering, and he could see her calves shaking even in the darkness. "Did you eat tonight?" he asked.

"No."

He bent down and knocked her off balance, catching her legs in one arm and supporting her back with the other as he straightened up. He carried her far enough away that they couldn't see or hear anything. He sat down on a set of steps, but didn't let go. She stared out at the cars passing with desert eyes. He rocked her back and forth slowly. "You're going to be OK, bedbug," he said. "I'm not going to leave you."

"How can you know that?" she asked dully.

He pressed one of her cold hands to his heart. "Feel that? It hurts every time it's not near you. I'm not going anywhere where you're not."

"I want you to go away, Lucas."

He couldn't do that. He wanted to respect her wishes, but he just couldn't do that. She didn't have anyone else right now. "I'm sorry. I can't."

She shrugged his arms away and stood up, and he didn't stop her. He just stood up too.

She walked away from him.


	5. Funny

_If I had gotten home a few hours earlier…_

 _I knew she was having a bad day. I knew she was going to start drinking as soon as I left. She was looking through those photographs Shawn had taken of the two of them in New Jersey. But I went to class anyway._

You didn't know she was going to die of alcohol poisoning…

 _But I knew she was in pain. I knew that she drank a lot when she was in pain. And I didn't really care, did I? I've always been more concerned about feeling sorry for myself because I grew up without a dad and practically without a mom. Poor, poor Maya. Everybody should feel sorry for Maya. Her life is so hard. No one should expect anything from her._

You know that's not how you feel. You've always just wanted to be independent, to get away from everyone who might give you something that you can't give back.

"Maya, please stop."

She stopped walking, but she didn't turn around. She realized that she had no idea what part of the city she was in, or how long she'd been walking. "I told you to go away, Lucas." She could hear his footsteps on the pavement as he came up behind her. "I want to be alone right now," she said.

"You need to rest. You can stay at my house tonight."

 _Like his parents would let her._

"I'm going back to the apartment," she said, simultaneously saying it and deciding that was what she was going to do. "I don't want you to follow me."

"Frankly, Maya, I couldn't care less right now what you say you want. You can go back the apartment, but I'm going with you."

She couldn't really be mad at him. He was Lucas.

He took another step closer to her. "Let's make a deal. I can come with you, but I won't talk to you unless you talk to me first. I'll sleep in the living room, and you can stay in your room. It'll be like I'm not there."

 _Okay._

They took the subway back.

Nothing about this felt real. It was too sharp, too pointed. Maya felt like she was seeing and feeling and thinking everything at once, and it overwhelmed her to a point where she couldn't see or feel or think anything. The other passengers on the subway were acting so normally. Couldn't they tell? Couldn't they see it all on her face?

Lucas didn't try to touch her. He looked straight ahead at the other end of the car. She had met him in a subway car. That was funny, right? She laughed a little, but it stayed in her chest and didn't make it to her mouth. Lucas's head turned sharply to face her, like the needle of a compass, his eyes full of concern. He must have thought she was going to cry. That was funny too, wasn't it? She really should be crying.

Suddenly, a feeling of calm washed over her. Laughing. Crying. What did it matter? It wasn't going to change anything. She just wanted to lie down.

He kept up his end of the deal the whole way. She left him in the middle of her living room, and she went to her room. As she passed her mother's door, she listened closely for the television. That was funny, right? As if the television would be playing. As if someone was still alive to turn it on.

She fell asleep exactly eighty-five seconds after her head hit the pillow.


	6. Prayers in the Dark

Lucas didn't even bother to look for blankets or pillows. He wasn't sleeping tonight. He didn't know what Maya would try to do. Obviously, she wasn't thinking clearly. She might try to leave without him, and that simply wasn't happening.

He sat on the couch, rubbing his temples as his head spun. There would have to have a funeral, soon. They needed a burial plot, and a coffin, and a church, and a headstone. And after that, Maya would need a place to stay, because there was no way she could go to college and still afford to live in New York. Besides, he didn't like the thought of her living alone.

Bad things happened when people were left alone. They did things like drink too much, or run away. Slowly, Lucas got to his knees on the floor. He rested his head on the worn brown couch with the wide orange stripes. It was the ugliest couch he had ever seen.

And Lucas prayed.

He prayed until his phone rang—he didn't know how long it was.

The screen nearly blinded him. He picked up the call. "Hey, Mom," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"Where are you? It's three in the morning!"

"I'm at Maya's."

"Lucas, you know that's not allowed."

Lucas bit back a sigh. "I know. But her mom died tonight, and she doesn't have any family. I thought it was the right thing to do."

She didn't want to admit that he was right. "Alright, honey. Come home first thing in the morning."

"I don't know if I can," Lucas said. "There's so much stuff that has to be done, and she has no one. Can she stay with us for a little while if she wants to?"

His parents couldn't say no to a practically orphaned girl, no matter how much they disliked her.

"If she wants to," his mom said. "It's the least we can do."

It really was the least they could do. They always did the absolute least they could do. He would never want to be like them, but they were his parents. He had seen too many of his friends grow up without families to complain about his. His family was together. That was what actually mattered.

"Bye, Mom."

"I love you, Lucas."

After he had hung up, Lucas found a trash bag in the kitchen and started tossing stuff into it. He couldn't think clearly in a room that was messy; and someone in this apartment needed to be thinking clearly. After he picked up all the trash and straightened up the room, he started on the dishes. Someone had made macaroni and cheese and left the noodle-encrusted pot soaking in the sink. The box was still out on the counter. Was this the last thing Katy had eaten? Or did Maya make this before she left for school yesterday?

He scrubbed the bottom of the pot with fury, like he could scrub away everything that had happened.

 _"Lucas!"_

He dropped the sponge in the sink, and with his hands dripping, ran to open Maya's door.

She was sitting up in bed, her fingers clutching the blankets as though she was about to fall off a cliff. Her eyes shone in the light streaming in from behind him. "What is it?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"Katy is dead," she said evenly.

Then a sob racked her body like she had been shot with it. Two hands flew to her head, raking her hair back. "Lucas!" she cried, as tears started coursing down her face.

He climbed into the bed beside her, drawing her to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his middle, crying into his shirt. Every so often, she would try to say something, but tears would drag the words back down into her throat.

"You're going to be okay," he'd say, holding her tighter. "You're going to be okay."

 **Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter; it's one of my favorites so far. Thanks for your lovely reviews, and keep reviewing! It helps me want to write more and get content out faster. :)**


	7. Nothing Lasts Forever

Maya woke to a room full of sunlight. The sun hadn't gotten the memo. The sun didn't know that it wasn't supposed to shine today. She sat up in bed. Lucas was sitting against the wall across from her bed, his head tilted upward and his eyes closed. He opened them at the sound of the sheets rustling.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"No," Maya said. "What time is it?"

Lucas checked his phone. "It's ten in the morning."

"I'm late." Maya jumped out of bed. "My class starts in five minutes."

"Not for you it doesn't," Lucas said. "I emailed your professors and told them you needed to take some personal time."

"You shouldn't have done that," Maya said curtly.

"Yes I should've. It's stupid to think that you can just go to class the day after your mother died."

"What else am I supposed to do?" she asked defiantly. "Sit around? Think about what happened? Cry? What is that going to solve?"

As soon as she said the word _cry_ , she could feel her eyes stinging.

"Oh, Maya," he said, getting up from the floor and sitting on the bed next to her. "Cry all you want. It doesn't matter if it solves anything."

"I'm not crying," she said.

But she was. She was very much crying. Lucas held her again, wondering how many times he would in the future and not minding at all. When the sobs had stopped and she had started breathing normally again, he kissed her forehead. He didn't mean anything by it—he had only wanted to comfort her—but she jerked away from him like he had electrocuted her.

He didn't comment on it. "You get dressed," he said. "I'm going to make breakfast. What do you want to eat? Pancakes?"

She let out a short laugh that sounded more like a sob.

"Alright. No pancakes. I'll just go see what I can find."

He stopped in the doorway and turned back to her.

"You're going to feel better someday, Maya. Probably not today, and probably not tomorrow. But one day."

"How do you know?" she asked.

"Because nothing on this earth lasts forever, whether we want it to or don't. Not people, not places, not happiness, not sadness. I haven't been through what you're going through, but I've lived just like everyone else. It always feels like it's going to last forever while you're in the middle of it. But trust me, short stack. It won't."

 _I love you._

Maya had to fight to keep this realization from showing on her face. She held it back until Lucas left the room, and then found that she was breathing like she had just run a marathon. _No. No. I can't deal with this right now. I can't deal with any of it right now._

Her eyes flicked towards the window, the window that she had snuck out of so many nights to see Riley. She wasn't leaving today, though. She had tried to walk away from her mother's death last night, and it hadn't worked.

So instead, she took a shower.


	8. Mushrooms

Maya looked so small, eating the scrambled eggs he had made for her on the kitchen counter, her wet hair dripping down her back. Her feet didn't reach the floor. He had always known she was short. All of his nicknames for her were based around that fact. So he had always known it, but this was the first time she had seemed small to him.

"I should call Riley today," she said. "Then Farkle."

"If you want to," he said. "I can make calls for you if you'd rather not." His eyes darted back and forth from her face to her plate. He wanted to make sure she ate enough. But he didn't really know what was enough. He would've eaten the whole thing by now. "We have to think about arrangements for your mom," he said.

"I don't want to think about that," she whispered.

"I know, but it has to be thought about. I can take care of everything for you, if you'd like. We could have it at my church. I just don't want to have anything done that you don't want."

"Alright."

Little by little, Lucas managed to extract from her all of the information he would need. He'd planned a funeral once before. His aunt died two years ago, when his dad was overseas. His mom, like Maya, hadn't wanted anything to do with planning a funeral. He could take care of this for Maya.

He did the dishes, and Maya wiped the counters. It took two minutes.

He made the calls to his pastor, then to the cemetery where Maya had said she had family buried, then to the florist, then to Nighthawk Diner. Maya video chatted with Riley from the living room. They talked for a few hours. Riley cried, Maya didn't. Lucas's mom tried to call him twice and left a voicemail. Maya video chatted with Farkle from the living room. They talked for a half-hour. Farkle cried, Maya didn't. Lucas ordered pizza.

When Maya was done, Lucas sat on the couch with her, and they ate pizza with a lot of vegetables on it. Lucas picked off all of his mushrooms and handed them to her to eat.

"What were you going to talk to me about last night?" she asked,

He looked at her carefully. He couldn't tell her now.

"It wasn't important," he said nonchalantly.

"It's adorable that you think you can lie to me and get away with it."

"Yeah…" He tossed a mushroom onto her plate. "Well, lately, I've been thinking about quitting university."

"Why?"

"A lot of reasons." _One of which is quickly becoming you._ "It's never quite felt right. I get good grades and everything, but I feel sort of frozen. My cousin, you remember, the electrician I worked with the past three summers? He asked me to work for him full-time. I'd have a flexible schedule and I could still teach at the dojang."

"Seems like you're pretty sure this is what you want." Maya picked at her pizza.

"When he asked me, it just clicked, like 'obviously, this is what I should be doing'."

"This is what you wanted to talk to me about?"

He fended off her question with a laugh. "Why are you so suspicious? Is this not important enough for you?"

She gave him a look. _I may not be in the best state of mind right now, but I'm not an idiot._

He shot one back. _Don't push me, Maya. I will tell you when and if I want to._

She broke their gaze first.

"I'm sorry," Lucas said. "This isn't really about me right now."

"Don't be sorry," she said. "I'd rather think about you than about me."

The silence that followed was comfortable.

"Are you staying here again?" she asked.

"Either I'm staying here or you're staying at my house," Lucas said steadily. "Ladies' choice."

"How far feminism has brought us."

He laughed, a laugh that started in his chest. Maya wanted to laugh, but laughing would feel wrong.

"What do you want to do?"

 _Kiss you to make myself forget everything that's happening to me, then leave._ "I want to stay here one more night. Then we can go to your house until the funeral."

And after that?


	9. Except That

Lucas slept in Maya's room that night. Not in the bed, of course. He was too much of a gentleman for that. He slept on the floor beside the bed, floating in and out of consciousness. Every few hours, from the recesses of his dreams, he would hear someone crying, and he would wake up and find that it was Maya. He'd kneel at her side and hold her hand until she fell asleep again. When he woke up and it was light out, her eyes were dry.

"Let's go," she said.

He took a shower while she packed. After, he went outside to phone his mother and let her know that he was coming home with Maya. She was none too pleased, but she honeyed her voice to cover the fact. "Just make sure she's not a nuisance to your father," she said. "He's been so stressed about work lately, and you know how much he dislikes having the household disrupted."

"She won't be," Lucas promised, and hung up.

Maya read the expression on his face when he walked back inside. "They don't want me there, do they?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't tell her that they didn't, and she would see through a lie. He picked up her bag, and they walked out of the house together.

During the subway ride to his house, he thought of a million things that he could say to her, but all of them seemed stupid in light of what had just happened. Who wanted to talk about how cute that kid on the subway with the toy helicopter is, or how weird it was that people just decided to pick an animal and have it live in their house at hardly any benefit to themselves? Nobody did. Least of all Maya.

But she looked so sad, like she just wanted to disappear. He put his hand over hers on the hard plastic seat. "You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?"

She cupped her hand slightly, like she was trying to throw his off. She hadn't had a problem with it last night. But that was different, she told herself. She was crying. The hand-holding wasn't a thing that they did, and if it was, it was a friend thing.

"I know that," she said, her soft and raspy from disuse. "Thanks, Lucas, for everything."

How could he explain that she shouldn't thank him? That thanking him for taking care of her was as ridiculous as thanking him for taking care of himself? He couldn't really explain it, he supposed. It sounded ridiculous in his head, but it made perfect sense in his heart. "You're welcome. Anything you want, I'll do it."

"Except apparently leave me alone." She gave him a half-smile. It was so weak and yet it seemed like it was cracking her face.

"Except that," he said.


	10. The Friars

"Dear!" Sandy Friar gave Maya a huge, perfume-scented hug. "I am so sorry for your loss. It must have been so awful for you to find your mother in that house, all by yourself. You're so thin. It looks like you haven't eaten in weeks. Lucas, did you make sure she ate?"

"Yes, Mother."

"You poor, poor thing." Sandy rubbed Maya's back ferociously. "No father around either. This sort of thing happens in broken families."

"Maya and I are going upstairs now," Lucas barked.

Sandy took a step back, putting her arms up in defense. _I knew it. She's a bad influence on him._ "Now, Lucas, there's no reason to use that tone of voice with me."

Lucas walked Maya to the foot of the stairs, keeping himself between her and his mother. He looked over his shoulder, and his mother was looking at Maya like she could burn her with her eyes. "I shouldn't be here," Maya whispered to him as they started climbing.

"Don't be an idiot, thumbelina." Lucas said, straining his voice to keep it light. "Mom doesn't have much tact." _Which is true. So that's not a lie._

The guest room was all made up. There were flowers and a Bible on the table by the bed, and extra towels on the chair. Lucas set Maya's bag down. Maya grazed the flowers with the tip of her finger. "These are lovely," she said.

 _Not as lovely as you._

"Let's go to the zoo today," Lucas said suddenly.

"Sure," Maya said.

So they went to the zoo. And it was a pretty good trip to the zoo. They didn't talk much, but she smiled at him every so often when an animal did something stupid. Lucas bought them hot dogs, and they ate them together on a bench. By the time they got all the way back to Lucas's house, it was dark outside.

Lucas's mom and dad were waiting for them on the couch.

"Hi, Mr. Friar, Mrs. Friar," Maya said. "Thanks so much for letting me stay here."

"You're welcome, Maya," Dustin Friar said. "If you don't mind, Sandy and I would like to have a word with Lucas, alone."

"Of course," Maya said. She went upstairs.

Sandy Friar crossed her legs. "Sit down, son."

Lucas sat.

"I'm afraid that your father and I have some…concerns."

Lucas glanced from one to the other. "Concerns about what?"

"Your relationship with Maya."

Lucas bit the inside of his cheek. He was not going to get angry. He had put that behind him. "What about it, exactly?"

"We have raised you to be a certain kind of young man," Dustin said, seeming uncomfortable with this whole situation. "We don't want you to do anything inappropriate. We realize that you're a legal adult now, but as long as you live under our roof and go to college using our money, you will follow our rules. Nothing is to take place between you and Ms. Hart. She is a very beautiful young lady."

"Nothing inappropriate is going to happen," Lucas said firmly.

"So…you don't like her that way?" Sandy narrowed her eyes at him.

What he felt for Maya was way more than liking her. "I would never take advantage of her," he said. "She just lost her mother."

"That's fine, Lucas," Sandy said. "But if anything inappropriate happens, your father and I have no choice. She will not be allowed to stay here."

Lucas nodded. "Understood."


	11. Riley

Maya heard everything from the hallway upstairs. It wasn't really anything she hadn't already known. Obviously the Friars didn't want her staying with them. Obviously they didn't like that she was friends with her son. Of course Lucas was right. Nothing was going to happen. Lucas was a good guy, and she wasn't going to let anything happen. For his sake and for hers.

Lucas came up the stairs and knew at once. "You heard everything," he said. "I'm so sorry."

"It's my fault for listening," Maya said. "Besides, I could've guessed all of it. I'm not going to get you into trouble. Besides, I'm just staying here for a few days."

"Are you?" Lucas raised his eyebrows. "This is news."

"I said until the funeral." Maya drew her legs up closer to her body. "The funeral is in two days. After that, I'm not going to impose on your family."

"You're not going to live alone."

"Really, Lucas? What else is going to happen? I stay with your family forever?"

Lucas didn't have an answer.

"That's what I thought," Maya sighed. "You don't have to be responsible for me. I'm an adult, and I'm able to take care of myself."

 _I don't have to be responsible for you, but I want to be,_ Lucas thought.

"I'm going to call Riley," Maya said, getting to her feet. "Sorry your parents are being so hard on you."

Maya went into her room, sat down on the bed, and called Riley, who picked up immediately. "Hey, Riles. How's it going?"

"Maya!" Riley's face lit up with a careful grin. "Saving the world. One wounded soldier at a time. But in reality, being an army nurse isn't all that exciting for now. How are you?"

"Right at this very moment or in general?" Maya asked.

"Both," Riley said.

"I'm good right now, but how I'm feeling changes every few hours." Maya tilted her computer screen down so that she could see Riley's face better. "For no reason whatsoever. Something that won't make me want to cry this minute might make me feel sick to my stomach in sixty minutes. I don't know how to fix it and I don't think I can."

"You're at the Friar's now?" Riley asked.

"Yeah."

"That's good. You shouldn't be alone."

Maya huffed. "Why not? What if the way I deal with this is by getting space?"

"Bad things happen when people are left alone," Riley said seriously.

 _Like they die._

"How are your parents?" Maya asked.

"They're doing OK," Riley said. "They want to talk to you tomorrow, if you're free. They're really sorry they can't be there for you."

The Matthews' had moved to Colorado four years ago. They couldn't afford to fly back to New York very often.

"I should be free anytime in the morning," Maya said. "I have class in the afternoon, if Lucas will let me go."

Riley smirked. "He's a good guy."

"Yeah…" Maya said.

And Riley knew. Her best friend couldn't keep anything from her. Maya loved Lucas.

But this wasn't the time to discuss that. So Riley discussed everything else. She and Maya talked for an hour, and then Maya went to bed.

That night she didn't sleep very much. She cried a few times, and she expected a hand to reach out of the darkness and grab hers, but it never did.


	12. Back to School

Lucas woke up with a jolt. He had slept against the wall between his room and Maya's. _No._ He looked at his alarm clock. _No, no._ He'd let her down. An enormous wave of guilt drowned his insides. _You're an idiot, Friar._

He got dressed as quickly as he could and went to Maya's door. It was still closed. He knocked. She opened the door: dressed, hair done, makeup done. "Good morning," she said brightly.

He looked closer. There were dark circles under her eyes, which she had attempted to conceal with foundation. "Good morning," he said back, giving her a quick hug. "You look beautiful. How are you?"

"Hungry," she said.

"I'll fix us breakfast. Mom's probably already at her meeting, and Dad's at work." They walked down the stairs together at a respectable distance. "What do you want to do this morning?"

"Go to class," she said.

"Alright."

She looked at him quizzically. "That's it?"

"What's it?" he asked nonchalantly.

"I get to go to class?"

"If that's what you want."

"What's the catch, Sundance?"

"No catch, dust mite."

Lucas handed her two bowls and two spoons, then went to the refrigerator and got the milk. They set it all down on the kitchen table, then Lucas got out the cereal and poured it for them. Maya ate hers with milk, and he didn't. "What are you going to do today?" Maya asked.

"I'm going to school too."

"But you don't have classes today," Maya said.

"You do," he said.

"Oh. There's the trick."

He put a hand to his heart in mock offense. "How dare you accuse me of tricking you. You've insulted my honor. Die." He jabbed her gently with the handle of his spoon.

"Lucas, why can't I go to class by myself?"

He sighed, putting his spoon down. "I get the feeling you're trying to get away from me. Don't you like spending time with me?"

"Of course, but I…"

"Then shut up," he said, smiling.

Her professors greeted Maya sympathetically at school that morning. She fended them off graciously, answering to all of them that she was doing well. They all believed her. How would they know whether she was really alright or not? They didn't know her. They were simply going through the motions.

She didn't pay attention during either of her classes. During the first class, she could see Lucas outside, reading the textbook that he had brought with him. He'd look up eventually, and he'd reassure her with a smile, and she'd wonder how this cruel world could let someone grow up as good as him. During the second class he wasn't in her line of sight, and she felt slightly panicked. But this was good. She'd allowed herself to depend on him too much in the last few days. Which was totally fine. But she'd need to be emotionally prepared for when she'd have to leave him.

Her heart rate slowed down when she saw him again, waiting outside the classroom for her. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," she answered.


	13. Couch

_Think, Lucas. Does anyone die in Frozen?_

Lucas stared at the DVD cover, trying to recall the plot.

 _Idiot. Both parents die in like the first scene._

He replaced the DVD. He wanted to find something lighthearted, something that would get Maya's mind off her mother's death.

 _No. Definitely not the Lion King._ He paused. _Although it is the father who dies…_ Never mind. She wouldn't want to be reminded of losing a father either. Children's movies should really come with trigger warnings.

After much internal dialogue, he made his selection and returned to the living room. "What'd you pick?" Maya asked, sounding like she didn't care at all.

"Shrek," he said, holding up the case. "The classic story of an ogre who falls for a princess and the only movie where the ugly people stay ugly and the pretty people turn ugly. Groundbreaking."

Maya nodded.

Lucas popped the DVD into the player, then sat down next to her. "I should be doing homework," Maya said.

"Shhh," Lucas said. "It's starting."

About a half-hour into the movie, Maya fell asleep.

Lucas smiled smugly, pleased that he had tricked her into taking care of herself. He settled back and watched, and sometimes his eyes glazed over and he just listened to the sound of her rhythmic, peaceful breathing.

Once, she woke up long enough lay her head down on the couch and curl herself into a nugget. _Nugget._ He'd have to use that one sometime. He turned the sound down on the movie and dimmed the lights. They kept blankets in a basket near the TV. He got one and laid it over her, then sat down carefully. Her blond hair lay centimeters from his leg.

The movie ended and Lucas shut down the screen. As soon as it went dark, he was struck by a quiet but powerful thought.

He was so much more than in love with Maya.

Being in love was something that happened to you, like getting sick. That's why it was so often called falling in love. Falling people didn't have any control over their falling. They had to wait until they hit something. Being in love was a chemical high. Most times, it was one of the most painful things on earth. Of course he was in love with Maya. How could anyone not be?

But it was more than that. It was choosing her.

He'd taken care of her even when he wasn't in love with her. He'd choose her over his independence, over his career, over his dreams. Not that she'd ever ask him too, or that it would even be necessary to give up those things…

She was his family. And not in the way that Riley and Farkle and his parents were his family. He wasn't in love with them. He was in love with her, and he would always choose her. Every day. Every year.

He wasn't stupid. He knew there were plenty of other girls out there that he could fall in love with. He knew he could've chosen someone else. Maya wasn't special in that sense.

He knew how many couples didn't make it. But that was because they didn't choose each other, because they didn't really get that once you married someone, they were your family.

Maya was the one, simply because she was the one he had chosen.

And he was all in.


	14. Stay

Pale face, with some mascara and lip gloss.

Still-damp blonde hair, twisted into a braid down the side of her neck.

The locket that her mother had given her for her 13th birthday.

Such was Maya.

She stared back at herself in the mirror. _This is your life. Not someone else's. This is what's happening right now. In five minutes you're going to get in the car with the Friars and go to Katy's funeral. Not that many people are going to be there. That's going to hurt._

She fiddled nervously with the locket.

Someone knocked softly on the bathroom door. "Maya?" Lucas said. "Are you OK?"

"Yes."

She could hear his sigh through the door. "You think you're the only one who can tell when someone's lying? Are you dressed?"

"Yes."

He came in, dressed in a dark blue suit and gray tie. She was wearing a simple, black dress. He stood behind her, staring with her into the mirror. "You are not alone," he said. "Even though you may feel like you are."

She turned around to look at him, but she moved too quickly and one of her heels caught on the bathroom rug and she fell forward against Lucas's chest. He was frozen for half a second, then raised his arms to steady her, but she flung herself backwards against the sink, knocking a makeup brush onto the floor.

Lucas kneeled to pick it up for her, slowly. It was so obvious that she didn't want him to touch her. But why? She didn't look at him when he handed the brush to her, and she didn't look at him when he opened the door for her, because she felt guilty.

Sure, it hurt Lucas that she seemed to loathe being around him, but this day wasn't about his feelings getting hurt so what did it matter?

All of the waitresses from the diner came. The Friars were there. But that was it. Maya cried silently at the sight of the closed casket, while a preacher who hadn't known her mother at all talked about heaven. Maya and Lucas both believed in heaven, but heaven seemed very far away that day.

Lucas had to practically sit on his hands during the car ride to the cemetery, to keep himself from holding her. Maya leaned against the seat, facing the roof of the car. Silvery tear tracks crossed her face like rain on a window. _None of this feels real,_ she thought. It was, though. She was sure it was. But what proof did she really have? She kept her eyes open, because every time she closed them she thought about the way she had found her mother.

As they sang a song at the graveside, she tried to think about the way her mother's body must look inside of the coffin. She hadn't wanted a viewing. But maybe it would have been better to have one? Then her last image of her mother wouldn't be the image she had of her in her room. She would have one of her mother dressed nicely, lying down in a peaceful albeit unrealistic position.

The guests began to disperse. Lucas brushed her elbow. "Do you want a moment alone before we go?" he asked.

"No." She walked quickly toward the car, her heels sinking into the grass. He kept up with her easily.

When they got back to the house, she went straight into her room and started throwing clothes into her bag. _Don't cry._ She unplugged her phone and computer charger and wound them up. _Don't cry. Don't cry. It's over. It's done. You can move on. Crying isn't moving on._

Lucas knocked, but she didn't answer.

"Let me in," he said.

She didn't answer; she kept packing.

"Let me in Maya or so help me I will break down this door."

"I'm leaving, Lucas," she called out, closing her eyes. "You're not coming with me."

She took off her heels and put on flats instead. She put her flats in the bag, and zipped it up.

Lucas opened the door. "You didn't even lock it," he said in a low, serious voice.

She flung the bag over her shoulder.

"You're not thinking clearly," he said.

"Don't tell me how I am and am not thinking," Maya said, walking towards the door.

He closed the door and stood in front of it. "Stay," he said. He didn't say it like he was asking.

Maya gritted her teeth.

"What are you going to do, nugget?" he said. "Call for my parents? They're not here. Hit me? I can take that. You can throw punches at me all day if you want. Or, you could talk to me, which will be much less violent and much less strenuous for both of us."

She shook her head slightly, forcing herself to laugh. "This is illegal. You can't keep me here."

"Can't I?" he said evenly.

She glared at him, dropping her bag on the floor. She threw a punch, and he caught her wrist before her fist reached his face. He pulled her closer to him so that she had no choice but to look at his face. "What are you going to do, my dear?"

 **XXX Thank all of you for your reviews! Please keep reviewing. It really does make me want to write more/update sooner, because I love hearing what you guys think. :) XXX**


	15. Selfishness is Not a Virtue

She couldn't answer his question.

"Admit it." His grip on her wrist softened slightly. "You don't know."

She tried to keep her gaze steady. He tucked a hand under her chin, and she backed away.

"You're afraid of me," he said, looking searchingly into her watery, blue eyes. "I don't know why, because we've been friends for years. I've never given you any reason to hate me."

"And I don't hate you," she said.

"But you _are_ afraid," he said.

She breathed in carefully.

His gaze didn't break. "Are you afraid because I love you?" he asked.

Maya's lips parted. "You love me?" she breathed out.

He frowned at her disbelievingly. "Please stop that. Don't flatter me by acting like you didn't know."

Of course she had known. But knowing in her head and knowing in her heart were two very different things.

"Answer my question," he said firmly. "Are you afraid of me because I love you?"

 _No. I'm afraid of the fact that I love you._

"Because you're just going to have to get over that," he continued, taking a small step forward. "It's irrelevant, really. You don't have to worry that I'm ruining my life pining over you, or that I'm holding onto some hopeless hope that you and I will somehow end up together. You're under no obligation to feel as though you're using me. Frankly, it doesn't matter that you don't love me. I wouldn't care if you did hate me. I love you, and I choose to love you, and I will keep choosing to love you until you die or I die or you marry someone else who chooses to love you as completely as I do."

She couldn't take it anymore. She covered her ears. "Stop, please," she whispered through tears.

This wasn't only about her getting hurt now. This wasn't only about Lucas ruining her life and leaving her looking for escape in a pill or a bottle. Now, it struck her for the first time that she was ruining him. He wanted something from her that she couldn't give him. She couldn't fall into her mother's mistakes. She couldn't…

She…

She wanted to tell him that she loved him so badly, she felt like the inside of her mouth was on fire. But that would be the most selfish thing in the world, wouldn't it? She dropped her hands.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking slightly ashamed of having expressed himself so vehemently.

 _No._ "I'm sorry," she said. "About everything."

Lucas shook his head. "What…what's everything? What have you done?"

She shook her head back at him, backing away. Then everything hit her at once. Lucas. Katy. Lucas. Katy. Tonight she was leaving. She sunk to the floor, shaking convulsively like someone was rattling her bones from within. She was alone, inside herself.

Lucas dropped to his knees and pulled her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest. She cried until her tears soaked through his shirt to his skin. He held her until her body stilled and the sun had set.

She stared out into the room, eyes wide open.

She felt so safe with him.

But how long was that supposed to last? Until for some reason, he'd leave and she'd realize that she hadn't set up a net to catch her when he wouldn't anymore. If she could survive now without him, then she could survive anything.

It was so easy, though, to let him help her.

She twisted her head up, and he looked down. Why had God let someone so good into her life? Maybe she wasn't meant to be happy, and that was okay. Not everyone could be. Her mother hadn't been. The odds weren't looking so great for Maya. But why him, too? If anyone deserved to be happy, it was Lucas. Lucas and Riley. They had been sort of a thing for a while, and they had been disgustingly happy, as they should have been.

So this now. Lucas and Maya. It was all wrong.

Lucas was reading her eyes as she thought all of this. "You don't believe me," he said.

Maya didn't answer.

"Alright. Let's try something else then," he said. He lifted her head so that they were inches apart. His hand slid from the back of her neck down the side of her face. His eyes were strong and earnest and unashamed. He didn't say that he loved her. He had already said that.

"Do you understand?" he asked.

And then Maya was so, so selfish.

She kissed him.


	16. No Use Pretending

She kissed him like the ground was about to drop out from under them.

It was a rare moment of honesty; a rare lapse of judgment. But for just one minute, she had wanted to know what it would be like to stop pretending with him. For years she had pretended. Pretended that she didn't think about him sometimes while he was with Riley. Pretended that she didn't like him as more than friends when they were friends. Pretended that she didn't want him near her. That she didn't love him in every way possible.

For better or for worse, there was no use pretending that anymore.

Her kiss drove him back against the door, hands gripping the back of his head. She wasn't actually that good at kissing.

But Lucas didn't care. After he got over his utter shock, he started kissing her back, and he was a lot better at it than she was. He wound one arm around her waist, and the with his other arm other gently loosened her death grip on the his neck. Their kiss softened.

When they broke away, he rested his forehead against hers. "Talk to me," he said.

She couldn't. There was no way to explain all the conflict raging in her heart. I need to stay, I have to leave. I love you, I don't want to be with you. You mean the world to me, I mean to lose you. How could that come out without sounding insane?

It couldn't.

"I don't want to talk right now," she said, letting her gaze slid down his face to her lips.

He pulled her back in, kissing her so passionately that her knees almost stopped working. She put her hand on his chest and she could feel his heart beating fast and hard, like dance music. "Don't stop," she said.

He didn't.

Every second seemed to stretch into a minute, and every minute into an hour. They were infinite, and their problems and fears were infinitely small. But nothing was infinite, as Lucas had told Maya before. Not fear or problems or people.

The sound of the Friars downstairs broke infinity.

They looked at each other.

 _What now?_

"Stay, please," Maya said. She didn't want to be alone. Not after feeling so acutely what it was to be not alone. Besides, her personal quest to protect Lucas was clearly crap. She wouldn't have kissed him if it wasn't.

"Alright," he said.

They sat on the floor. He sat behind her, and she rested her head on his chest.

"Do you remember when we met?" he asked.

"Not really," she said lazily. "That year is kind of just a haze of middle school embarrassment." She craned her head to the side to look at his face. "Everyone's embarrassment but mine, of course. I was pretty cool."

She could feel his laugh rippling through her entire body.

"If you don't remember, I was also pretty together," he said.

"I remember making fun of you," she said.

"You really don't remember how we met? At all?" He seemed slightly disappointed.

"Was it in Matthews' class?"

"Nope."

He reached for her hand, playing with her fingers while he talked. "We were on the train," he said. "You were with Riley. We looked at each other, and I smiled at you. I was reading some book that was on the reading list. And I thought you were beautiful, even though I had only ever described girls as cute before. Then you pushed Riley into my lap and you delayed the inevitable for a while. Why did you do that?"

Maya shrugged. "It made sense."

"Sure. I guess it did. But being in love isn't about making sense." He brought her hand to his heart, like he had the night her mom died. "This." His heart was still beating fast. "This is what's real. And reality makes sense, even if we don't understand it."


	17. In Which Lucas is Stupid

They stayed up talking half the night, talking about their middle school and high school years. Those years seemed really far away now, and really impersonal. Almost like they hadn't lived them, and they were talking about characters that they had never met in a television show that they'd only watched a few episodes of.

Lucas's whole body felt lighter. She had kissed him. She loved him, obviously. Everything was going to be okay now. He could get her through anything, as long as they were together.

Poor, stupid, Lucas.

Maya wasn't stupid. She knew that he was thinking all this. She knew that she had just built the whole world for him, just as surely as she had felt her whole world crumble. In the pauses in their conversation, she planned to get control back. She could still turn it back around. But she only thought about this during the pauses.

When they were talking, when she could feel his voice vibrating and feel his heart beating, she thought that she had never thought anything could feel like this. Especially after the way she had felt the night Katy died. How was it possible to feel so good, so soon? It was disrespectful. But her mom already felt like a memory as distant as her middle school years.

Just like she and Lucas would be, sooner than she thought possible.

She fell asleep, her head still jumping back and forth from the sky to the ground.

Lucas didn't move the rest of the night. His back started to hurt from leaning against the door, and his arms ached from holding her in the same position for so long. His legs went numb. Nobody cared. Least of all him.

Morning came, and Maya started to stir. He kissed her on the side of her head, rocking her back and forth until she woke up fully. She looked up at him, with such complete trust that he was suddenly struck by the immense responsibility he had taken on in loving her. He wasn't scared by it. He simply noted that it was immense.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning," she said.

He helped her up off the ground, trying to disguise the fact that practically every limb he owned had fallen asleep and was now set on fire. He almost fell twice, and Maya had to steady him. "Everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, smiling.

She hugged him. "Thank you."

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

He couldn't see her blinking, like she was going to hold back tears.

He couldn't hear that what she was really saying was goodbye.

"I'm going to go brush my teeth," he said. "I'll be back in a little bit."

She nodded, and he left.

Both of his parents were waiting for him right outside the door. He closed it quickly, so she wouldn't see them. His mother managed to look brokenhearted and angry at the same time, and still look like the quintessential southern belle. Mr. Friar just looked angry. He jerked his head toward the right. _Downstairs, son._


	18. Appearance of Immorality

"Did you think you could get away with this?"

Lucas stared at the pattern on the carpet. "I wasn't thinking about getting away with anything," he said quietly. "She was in pain and I couldn't leave her alone last night."

"Lucas. Look at me," his mom said.

He looked up, slowly and deliberately and defiantly. _Tell me it was wrong,_ he challenged them. _A girl who just attended her mother's funeral, who has no one else but me: tell me comforting her is wrong._

"What you did was very wrong," she said. "I know it doesn't seem that way, but as a family, we must avoid the appearance of immorality. What do you think God thinks of you?"

"I think God cares about people," he said. "And I think that I care about Maya. And I think that it matters what other people think, but I think that taking care of a young women whose mother is dead and whose father left when she was young is more important than what people think."

They couldn't say anything to that. Of course they couldn't. He was right, after all.

Lucas's father cleared his throat. "She can't stay here."

"Fine," Lucas said, standing up. "Then I can't stay here either."

"Lucas, don't be unreasonable," his mother huffed.

"I'm not, Mother," he said, with a bite on her name. "This is the most reasonable thing in the world, to me. I love her. I know that you don't. I love her and I'm going to take care of her, and even if I didn't love her, I hope I would still take care of her because that's the right thing to do and because it's the right thing to do it's the reasonable thing to do. So decide. If you throw her out, just know that you're throwing me out too."

His parents sat in stunned silence. Then, his father's face set. "I will not tolerate this rebellion in my own household," he said.

Sandy Friar pursed her lips, feeling seconds away from crying as the inevitable became what was happening.

"Leave," Mr. Friar said. "Do not expect anything from us unless you first repent of your rebellion. We will not pay for your education any longer. You may take your clothes, other personal items, and whatever you might have saved, but nothing more. You have an hour to pack."

Lucas's head started spinning.

Was this really happening?

He was an adult in the eyes of the law, but he had never felt like one.

Was he going to give everything up?

He saw Maya's face in his head.

Yes. Yes, he was.

Lucas nodded at his parents and went upstairs.

Maya's door was still closed. He knocked on it, but she didn't answer. He knocked again, louder. Nothing. His stomach dropped like he was on a roller coaster. Not a fun roller coaster. A haunted, rickety roller coaster without seat belts. "Maya!" he called. "Answer me!"

She didn't.

He twisted the knob, and the door opened easily. The room was completely clean.

And Maya and everything she had brought with her were completely absent.


	19. Maine

The air in the room disappeared, and Lucas gasped for breath like he was drowning.

 _She's gone._

He ran to the window. It was open, and no one was on the fire escape. There was a piece of paper with his name on it tied to one of the rails.

 _Lucas,_ it read.

 _I know I'd be wasting time telling you not to look for me, because I know that you will. I know that when you look for me, you're going to be able to find me. But I also know that no matter how many times you find me, I'm going to manage to get lost again._

 _I'm sorry that I kissed you. It was a stupid mistake and I wish it hadn't happened._

 _Thank you,_

 _Maya_

Lucas packed his stuff in two minutes and left.

* * *

She was finally doing it.

She was finally doing the right thing.

All of the colors looked brighter, the air was crisper, everyone on the street seemed happier. She walked past all of her favorite places on the way to the bus stop and said goodbye. She said goodbye to college. She had to support herself now. She said goodbye to her house. She said goodbye to the diner, and to John Quincy Adams Middle School. When she got to the bus station, she picked a random town in Maine. She bought a hot dog and got on the bus and fell asleep.

She dreamed about finding Lucas in his room, dead. There was a dark red stain on his chest. She stepped closer, thinking it was blood. But it wasn't. It was wine. She could smell it. The smell grew stronger and stronger until it blocked her nostrils and her throat, and she blacked out.

When she woke up, they were out of the city. She laid her head against the window of the bus, watching the trees pass by until they blurred into a wall of green. She drifted between awake and asleep into the night and into the next day. She could've been happy if she had never had to move again, if she could fall asleep and not ever have to get back up. She could melt into the seats and she wouldn't even care.

Once during the ride, Riley called her. Maya let it go to voicemail and then didn't listen to the voicemail. Then she realized that Lucas hadn't tried to call her. Not even once. Maybe her letter had worked, but if it had then she was very wrong about him.

She got to Raidville, Maine and made herself get off the bus. She could taste the salt in the air when she breathed in. Seagulls flew lazily overhead. She walked around. She had gone down every street by the time an hour had passed. She picked a small restaurant on the wharf, went inside, and asked for a job. She was hired as a waitress and told that she could start the next day. Then she went to the cheapest hotel and paid for a room.

Every day was pretty much the same. She got up, got dressed, brushed her teeth, and went to work. She worked all day, and then at night she went down to the beach and sat for two hours and looked at the ocean. Then she went back to the hotel room, paid the clerk for another night, then went to bed. She made just enough money to pay for the hotel room, and the owner let her eat the food that they couldn't keep for too long.

A few people tried to strike up conversations with her. The cook at the restaurant, the bellhop, the homeless man on the beach. She answered briefly and politely, then went on with her routine. She wasn't happy and she wasn't sad.

She wasn't anything anymore, but at least she was independent.

* * *

 **Please review. It makes me happy. :)**


	20. The Club

Tammi worked at the restaurant on the wharf with Maya. She was 26, with long brown hair that she wore in a braid. Tammi loved the sound of her voice more than anything in the world. She tried to talk to Maya several times a day, and despite herself, Maya didn't really mind it, because Tammi didn't get annoyed when Maya didn't answer her, which was most of the time.

Tammi even sort of liked it, because it meant that she could talk more.

Tammi liked to talk about all sorts of things. Her romantic exploits were usually the priority.

And boy, did Tammi have a lot of romantic exploits.

"John was just so immature," Tammi said as she and Maya set tables together.

Maya nodded.

"He texted me to ask me on a date. Isn't that insane? Like, what kind of real man even does that? 'What's up babe lol date tonight'. What a joke!"

Maya nodded.

"But Wesley…" Tammi shivered with delight. "Now Wesley's a real man. I mean, he hasn't gotten my number yet, but when he does, he's definitely not going to text me to ask me out on a date. You definitely have to go with me to the club tomorrow night, though. Anna's sick, and I need someone else with me, or else it'll totally look like I only went to run into him again. It's kind of far, but I'll drive and pay for gas and drinks and everything. Sound good?"

Maya nodded.

"Thank you so much, you're a lifesaver!"

Maya hadn't been listening when she nodded, so she was beyond surprised when Tammi showed up at her house the next day in a black dress so tight Maya wondered whether her whole body would eventually turn blue. Tammi sighed when she saw Maya's worn jeans and college t-shirt. "I knew this would happen." She went back out to her car and returned with a huge bag.

An hour later, Maya was outfitted in black jeans, heels, sparkly tank top and short leather jacket. Her eyes were appropriately smoky. "Perfect," Tammi said.

They set out. Tammi babbled about how nervous she was, while changing lanes and executing turns with military precision. Maya stared blankly out at the moon, wishing that she was asleep.

The club was much more crowded than Maya expected. She assumed this was because it was one of the only clubs in Maine. They got in without any trouble. Purple lights flashed everywhere, and the music was so loud that it made Maya feel like she was going to explode. Tammi spotted Wesley within seconds of walking in, and in five minutes had maneuvered herself into conversation with him.

Maya stayed in one of the corners and watched people. People think this is fun. You don't. There's something wrong with you, not them.

A guy was standing in the corner opposite her. She caught his eye accidentally, and he smiled. She tried to smile back, but it didn't happen. He walked over to her anyway. "Hi," he said, sticking his hand out. "I'm Henry." He gestured to Tammi, who was now dancing with her romantic exploit. "Is that your friend?"

"Yeah," Maya said.

"That's mine," he said, pointing out Wesley.

Maya nodded, looking into the sea of young, beautiful, dancing people and wondering why she felt so heavy inside.

"Dance with me," Henry said, with a charming smile. "I need someone to help me kill time."

Maya looked at him, actually looked at him this time. He seemed nice. Normal, and not like he might stalk her afterwards. "Okay," she said.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the floor. Maya wasn't good at dancing, and he wasn't either. He was laughing, purple lights illuminating his face. The crowd grew denser and denser, pushing the two of them closer together. Then he was kissing her. Maya didn't stop him, but she didn't kiss him back either. Kissing him was the same as not kissing him. It didn't make a difference to her at all whether she was kissing him or not kissing him. Her heart rate stayed steady, and the heaviness didn't lift.

Normal people feel something when they kiss a stranger, she thought.

He leaned and yelled in her ear, because it was too loud to talk normally. "Let me buy you a drink."

She let him.

She knew vaguely that drinking was a bad idea, but she didn't care.

Drinking wasn't the same as kissing him. Drinking and not drinking were definitely not the same.

Drinking, it turned out, was wonderful.

All of a sudden, she wasn't so sad. Dancing was fun. Kissing Henry was fun. Life was fun. Life was wonderful! Maya was wonderful. Look at her, being normal and feeling things and having fun and being wonderful. She had another drink.

And another.

And another.


	21. Drink is a Weird Word

Instead of going to the beach at night, Maya went to the only bar in Raidville, and for a few hours every day she found that she could feel better. She always felt worse in the morning, but as long as she knew she could make it all go away, it wasn't so bad.

A month passed. Two months, maybe? Time didn't matter so much. It moved fast whether she was miserable or not. Maya sat on the barstool by herself. It was easy to keep her balance. For now.

"You shouldn't drink so much," Tammi had said that morning. "Another girl we had used to drink during her break like you do, and she got fired."

Who is Tammi to judge me? Everyone should mind their own business.

The bartender knew how to mind his own business. The other people there did too. The bartender brought her order, and Maya finished it before the bartender could blink. She had gotten a lot better at drinking. She hadn't really gotten drunk before she moved to Raidville. There was that one time on her 21st birthday when she and Katy had gone out, but that was only two drinks so it couldn't really count.

Katy…

Maya finished her second drink.

A middle-aged man on a stool a few yards away glanced at her, then glanced back.

The heaviness inside of Maya began to lift, and she laughed a little because she could. The man who was watching moved a stool closer, said hello, and introduced himself. His name was Dan. He was visiting Raidville on business. Maya said hello and introduced herself. He asked her how long she had lived here and what she did. She answered, but she didn't pay a lot of attention to what he said. After that, she let him talk, and she focused on feeling good.

She deserved to feel good, didn't she? She was the only person on this earth that she could really look out for. She deserved to get everything that she wanted, and what she wanted was not to feel bad about her mom or about…

No. That was over.

She deserved to drink, and drinking deserved her.

That didn't make any sense.

She deserved to drink, because she wasn't a bad person. No one was really a bad person. Look at how nice Dan was! He was getting her another drink, because that's what made him happy. His hand was on her shoulder. She was happy to be getting another drink.

Drink is a weird word.

Drink, drink, drink.

If you think about a word enough it doesn't really seem like a word anymore. It seems made up. But of course all words are made up anyway.

Dan's hand was on her waist now. He was leaning in closer, talking earnestly. She could feel his breath on her face. That didn't make her happy, but the bartender had just gotten her drink.

Maya reached for it, but she never got to it.

Lucas's hand grabbed her wrist.


	22. Choice

"Get out," Maya heard him say to Dan in a low, threatening voice.

Dan retreated at once. Maya didn't look up. She couldn't.

Of course he had found her. She hadn't doubted that he would, at first. But then he hadn't called, and she had been in Raidville for two months…

He smelled like New York City. He let go of her wrist.

Lucas threw a wad of bills at the bartender, helped her stand, and guided her out onto the street, even though she didn't feel that drunk anymore. He didn't say anything, which made it all feel worse. She didn't feel drunk anymore. The cold, night air cleared her head. The heaviness was settling back in. She wanted to go back. She needed to be happy. She needed to forget. But his hold on her was strong

Once they were under a streetlamp, he turned her to face him. When she still wouldn't look at him, he sighed shakily, and then tilted her head up.

 _No._

 _Oh, God. No._

 _What have I done? What have I been doing?_

Maya backed away from him, covering her mouth with her hand.

She recognized the expression on his face like she had been living it. She had lived it. When he looked at her, he was angry and sad and pleading and confused and helpless. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to fix everything, but he didn't know how or if she would even let him. He was angry at her for putting him in this position, and yet seeing her like this broke his heart. He didn't understand how someone could act this way. He was powerless to change anything. He was lost. He was alone. She had left him alone for two whole months, and she hadn't even told him why. He was just waiting for her to do it again. He looked at her and felt all these things, and she saw that he was feeling them and she understood.

It was the way she had felt when she looked at her mother.

She was turning into her mother. The very thing she had left Lucas to avoid doing she hadn't avoided at all. She had run to it the first chance she got. She wasn't independent. She was weak.

For the first time in weeks, Maya began to feel something.

She had thought before that she loved Lucas, but the truth was, she hadn't loved him, or she would never have left. Kissing him hadn't been selfish. Leaving him was. It was never about protecting him, because here he was, hurting. She was done feeling sorry for herself. She was done hiding from him. It hadn't worked. It hadn't protected him or kept her from self-destructing like her mother had. She was done.

In that moment, Maya made a choice.

She decided that she loved him.

Then, Lucas started crying.

She had never seen him cry before, and she couldn't tell if he was crying because he was angry or because he was happy or because he was sad.

"Well?" he cried.

"Lucas, don't," she said.

"I'm not going to do anything," he said, trying to stop crying and failing. "I'm not going to lock you up."

He looked so tired, like he could fall over if the wind blew a little too strongly.

Even though she was fresh off of her personal epiphany, Maya did not fail to appreciate how adorable he was when he was crying.

"If you're going to go, go," he said, his voice strained. "Okay? I read your letter. I know what you're planning to do. Just go now. I can't hear; I can't hear you say it, alright? Please, go."

"No."

He cried more. Now she was starting to cry.

"Don't lie to me, Maya," he said. "Just tell me the truth. I'll let you go. I'll find you again, but I'll let you go. I just had to know you were okay."

"I'm not okay, Lucas." She stepped up to him and wiped away his tears with her hand. "I'm only happy when I'm drinking, and I can't feel anything anymore, and there's no point to living. I need you," she whispered, then she hugged him.

He wanted so badly to believe her, as his arms locked around her waist.

"I love you," she said.

"Don't say that," he begged.

"I love you," she said. "I love you. I love you. I love you. How can I prove it?"

She couldn't, he believed. He loved her still, but she had broken his heart and his trust. She had kissed him and then said it was a mistake and then left. His parents had kicked him out. He'd worked night and day just so he could eat, and he had finally saved up enough to have her cell phone tracked by some shady guy in the back of a tech store.

Not that working nights had mattered that much, because he couldn't sleep at night anyway, not knowing if she was safe.

"I love you," she said again, slowly, putting the emphasis on each word.

"Maya, please stop. Don't say that," he begged. "Please stop." He wanted to push her away, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

She had to make him believe her. She couldn't stand to see him in this kind of pain, because she knew better than anyone what it felt like. She pulled his head down and kissed him until he stopped crying.

Then, before he could ask her to go one more time…

She asked him to marry her.


	23. Precisely 8:30 AM

"You're drunk," he said, breathing hard from crying and from her kiss. "You don't mean that." He took a deep breath through his nose, trying to get a grip.

Maya thought about it for a few seconds, her forehead creasing. She was sort of drunk, she supposed. But that didn't mean she wasn't sincere. "I do mean it," she said. Her feet weren't steady but her gaze was. "Marry me," she said again.

"Maya, I'm not going to marry you," he said firmly.

"Why not? You love me, right? I love you…and isn't that what people do when they love each other? They get married?"

He laughed unsteadily, wiping his eyes of the last of his tears. "You are so, so unbelievably drunk right now."

"I'm quiet believably drunk, thank you," she said.

She'd missed this.

"Come on," he said. "I'm going to take you home."

"Okay," she said.

The walk to the hotel was short. Maya managed to get there without falling over. Already, she was wishing again that she had a drink in her hand. But then she could look over at Lucas walking next to her, and she didn't want to drink anymore. He walked her to her door, and then turned to leave.

Maya grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?" she asked, suddenly feeling panicked.

"To get a room for me," he said.

"I'll go with you," she said.

She'd survived two months without him. How had she done that? She didn't want to do that anymore.

"Just go to bed," he said quietly.

She didn't let go. She didn't know how.

They held a small staring contest: a small battle of wills. Lucas lost.

"Fine," he said.

She hung on to his arm the whole time: downstairs, while Lucas was talking to the clerk, when he walked to his car to get his suitcase, when he wheeled it back, and when they walked back upstairs. "Alright," he said, when they were back at her door. "You can let go now."

She did. She kissed him on the cheek, said goodnight, went in and closed the door. She was getting through to him. She could tell. He was starting to believe that she loved him. She changed into her pajamas, climbed into bed, and fell asleep with a smile on her face, feeling for the first time since her mom died that she was going to have a real life.

Lucas stood outside the door for a full minute, his skin prickling where she had kissed him. _She's drunk,_ he reminded himself. _She didn't mean anything she was saying. She told you that one time she isn't sure if she believes in marriage, that she thinks two people change too much to stay happy together their whole lives._

Lucas believed in marriage. He believed in it so much, the thought of not getting married ever made him want to punch walls. He knew she didn't mean it, but hearing her ask him to get married still meant something to him, something cruel.

Maya didn't want to get married to him, or to anyone. She wasn't going to be there when he woke up in the morning, no matter what she had said. He was going to knock on her door at precisely 8:30 A.M., and there would be no answer, and then he would go in and Maya wouldn't be there. That's what she had written to him, and she hadn't been drunk then. Not drunk Maya was obviously more sincere than drunk Maya.

But it turned out that she wasn't.

Because when Lucas knocked on the door at precisely 8:30 A.M. the next morning, Maya opened it.

* * *

 **Thank you all for your lovely reviews on the last chapter! They made my day.**


	24. Give Us Time

She was showered and dressed and beautiful and appeared perfectly sober.

"You're here," he said.

"Marry me," she said.

Lucas laughed shortly. "Wow. I'm surprised you can remember anything from last night. You're hilarious."

She gave him a look. "I wasn't that drunk. And I'm not being funny." She stepped closer to him, tilting her face upward. "Marry me."

"Maya…" he said pleadingly.

"Do you love me?" she asked.

He was having trouble breathing, so he didn't answer. She smelled like home to him.

"Do you love me?" she asked again.

"I love you," he said.

"And I love you," she said. She crossed her arms. "So what's the problem? Would you rather just be domestic partners?"

No, he would not rather be domestic partners.

The problem was that he couldn't believe that she loved him back, not after everything that happened. She was experiencing heightened feelings of affection toward him because he had "saved" her in the bar, and because she hadn't seen anyone familiar to her in two months. She might very well believe that she loved him, but that belief would implode quickly.

"Give us time, Maya," he said. "We haven't even dated yet."

"Do you want to go on a date?" she asked eagerly.

He was a little shocked by her enthusiasm. "I do," he said. "But that's not exactly at the top of my priority list right now. I need to call the Matthews and Farkle, who have been freaking out over you the past few weeks, and I have to find a job here in town fast."

"A job? But what about college?"

He didn't answer.

Yeah…the whole not answering thing didn't work out so well. He should really know that by now.

She crossed her arms again. "Lucas. Answer me."

"I quit school because my parents kicked me out and I couldn't afford to stay," he admitted, praying that she wouldn't blame herself.

Oh. Maya remembered. The rules.

He chose me over his parents.

Her heart was so full of love for him that she was just waiting to explode. Why did he love her? Why her? "I'm sorry," she said. "You must've been through hell."

It didn't seem fair to him that she called what he had gone through hell, when compared to what she had gone through it sounded like a walk in Central Park.

To be honest, it had felt like hell to him.

But it had only felt like hell because she wasn't there.

They stood there, assessing each other.

Maya remembered the look on his face last night and swore that she would never put it there again.

Lucas wondered how she seemed so normal, whether this was just a phase or if this was the start of Maya being okay.

Then they both realized how hungry they were. "Let's get breakfast," he said.

Maya's shift wasn't till the afternoon, so after Lucas had called the Matthews and Farkle and they had all gotten to talk to Riley, Maya and Lucas went to the restaurant where Maya worked. Lucas ordered pancakes, and Maya had a breakfast sandwich.

Lucas talked about working as an electrician with his cousin, and how he was enjoying it a lot more than he thought he would. Maya didn't talk much; there was nothing about the past months that she considered worth talking about. She was happy just to watch him. He talked with his hands a lot, waving and gesturing as he described the jobs he had worked and the things he had learned. He wanted to ask her about what she'd been doing, but she directed the questions away from it, not because she was afraid he would think badly of her, but because she didn't think what she'd done was important.

Observing Lucas was important. His eyes lit up with pride in himself when he talked about something he'd fixed. His voice dropped when he told her that she looked beautiful that morning.

Neither of them realized it, perhaps because they gone out to eat together so often as friends, but this was their first date.


	25. Life

Lucas and Maya stayed in Raidville.

They hadn't intended to. But really, what did they have to return to in New York? Why pay for bus fare back to a place where they had lost people and lost each other? Lucas liked the slower pace of the tiny Maine town, and so did Maya, although for some reason she pretended she didn't.

They dated. They dated the heck out of each other. There was no subject on earth that they didn't cover. How they felt about terrorism. How rain was comforting. How zebras were just glorified horses. How Lucas was getting along as the town electrician. How Maya was getting better at kissing. How Lucas liked syrup on his scrambled eggs. Even though they covered everything, things were always changing.

Maya asked him to marry her every day when he met her at the door to walk her to the restaurant. After six months, he decided that he had given them enough time.

And he said yes.

They got married on the wharf, surrounded by all of their friends. Riley, Corey, Topanga, Farkle, Zay. They didn't have any money for a honeymoon, so the Matthews offered to pay for it. Maya didn't want them to. Neither did Lucas, really, but he couldn't stand the thought that Maya wouldn't get everything she was supposed to. It wasn't enough money to go anywhere exotic, but it was enough to rent a cabin in Colorado.

When they got back, they put a down payment on a tiny house. Maya quit her job as a waitress and started working instead as an art teacher in the local school. The school administrators didn't care that she hadn't finished college: she was good at her art and everyone could see that.

Lucas never became a veterinarian and never worked in a dojang. But in the end, some dreams don't turn out to be that important, do they? He had Maya Friar, and coming home to his own house and finding her trying and failing to get her art lesson ready and make dinner at the same time made dreams he had when he was younger seem worthless.

They were happy, for the most part.

Of course, not everything was beautiful all the time. Nothing ever is.

There were those nights when Maya would wake up at three a.m. and start crying, and Lucas would drive her to school in the morning and hold her hand. And then there were those nights Lucas couldn't sleep thinking about what would happen if he failed, and he couldn't take care of her, and Maya would sit up with him and call him names and make him tell her everything that he was afraid of.

Their life was so much more than those nights, though.

It was teaching a kid how to draw the things they had only ever seen in their heads, and fixing wires while talking about politics with the mayor. It was pizza with mushrooms and getting sand in their shoes when they walked on the beach.

Eventually, life was putting their kids to bed four times a night because they kept getting up to use the bathroom and get a drink of water; dinners with Riley and Farkle when they came to town for a visit; family hikes in the woods; late-night coffee at the table with tax returns and runs to the grocery store for diapers.

They knew they would lose each other eventually. Nothing lasted forever, whether they wanted it to or didn't want it to.

But they were comforted by the fact that, when it was time to say goodbye, it wouldn't be because they had chosen to say goodbye. They had chosen to love each other. That would always be true.

No matter what happened.

* * *

 **Hi! Thanks for reading. The response has been so positive, and all of your lovely comments have made quite a few of my days. Hope you enjoyed the ending. XXX**


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